


A Vulcan walks into a gay bar...

by spacegaysgalore



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Jim is a bartender at a gay bar called the Enterprise, Jim isn't in Starfleet, M/M, Mutual Pining, Scotty is a party bisexual, Spock isn't a professor, Uhura lowkey tricks Spock into going just to meet Jim, academy au, automatically locked into the baby blues, background Chekov/Sulu, he's just super smart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2018-10-16 22:15:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10580586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacegaysgalore/pseuds/spacegaysgalore
Summary: ...and politely orders an ice water with lemon.Jim is a bartender at a gay bar in San Francisco, which happens to get most of its patrons from the nearby Starfleet Academy. Towards the end of the night, a very stiff man with a horrible haircut marches in and Jim, for the first time in his life, is absolutely speechless.





	1. Space Oddity

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to listen to the playlist that goes along with this fic (because of course there's one) [it's here.](https://open.spotify.com/user/metromcnasty/playlist/0kiJ19HpIUpduIjVcibW4x)

It was the dinner rush on a Thursday, so Jim wasn’t expecting much for customers besides the regulars. Most of them would drop by to hang out with their friends, but leave before the influx of folks at about 9:00. The only reason he got anyone coming in to dance was because there were a lucky handful of academy students that didn’t have classes on Fridays.

Jim was taking his time drying the pint glasses, knowing that if he dropped one it would come right out of his next paycheck.

“Hey, you,” a female voice said from behind him, startling the bartender, “you closing tonight?”

The glass slipped from his hand and onto the floor. He swore and looked incredulously up at the source of the voice, who was leaning over the hardwood bar.

“Shit, Uhura! See, look what you made me do.” he stooped over to pick up the large shards, ignoring the pain in his back from a long shift.

“Oh my god, Kirk,” the cadet moved to join him behind the bar, “let me help with that.”

He shrugged, “no problem. It’s not like I don’t have about four hundred more.” The wall behind him was lined in perfectly cleaned and organized glasses, so the one fallen drinking glass was not going to be missed. He knew that Uhura was probably going to give him the money to replace it anyway, but disguise it as a tip. “And what did I tell you about calling me Kirk?”

She shook her head, her long black ponytail swaying behind her. Jim could get hypnotized looking at it for too long. “Sorry, it’s Jim, I know. I’m still stuck in school mode. Everyone’s last name there.”

Jim shrugged again and tossed the chunks of broken glass into the trash. “What did you ask me? Before I fumbled this glass, that is?”

“Oh,” Uhura smiled brightly, “are you closing?”

“Of course. I always do.” he grinned in response, throwing the towel over his shoulder. It was damn near impossible not to smile when she was happy.

She fiddled absently with her dangling earrings, “oh, yeah. Just wondering.”

At this, Jim began to get suspicious. Uhura usually didn’t wonder things, and when she did, it was some pretty complex shit. She had been around the bar long enough to know that he almost always worked closing shifts. Immediately he began to guess as to why she would double-check on something so simple.

He asked her, of course, why she wanted to know, but she just smiled again and hustled out with the excuse of an exam in the morning. That part may or may not have been true, as Jim didn’t know her schedule well enough to call her out on it.

After thinking on it for several more minutes, he eventually chalked the encounter up to a fluke, and had mostly forgotten it by the time the door creaked open at 7:46.

Jim continued with the glasses, thinking that it was probably another regular. At that point in the night, most of them were there for the entertainment. Thursday wasn’t a special night, so it was mostly filled with groups of students chatting around high tables, sipping on whatever they had gotten from Jim half an hour ago.

Someone at the bar cleared their throat, and Jim sighed and set the glass upside down on the drying mat by the sink. “Hikaru, if you want more chips you just gotta-”

The person was not Hikaru. As Jim looked up, expecting to see a plant-loving navigation student, he found himself face-to-face with a Vulcan.

Jim had obviously seen Vulcans before. While most of them were with the Vulcan Science Academy, he would occasionally see a group of similarly dressed nerds with severe haircuts walking in groups across the campus. Starfleet Academy, while it was “illogical” in its methods and teaching style, was the equivalent of the Vulcan Science Academy’s best friend.

He knew of the Vulcans, but he couldn’t say he would have ever expected to see one standing in front of him in a gay bar.

“Oh, sorry,” he tried to hide his shock behind his bartender persona, “what can I get you?”

The man in front of him was completely still, to the point where Jim wasn’t sure if he was breathing. His hands were tightly clasped behind his back and he wore a formal Starfleet uniform.

“I will have an ice water,” the alien managed, staring intently at the bartender.

Jim didn’t usually get flustered, but it seemed like the presence of the alien was enough to do it. He turned to put ice in a glass, extremely aware of the task and the feeling that he was being watched.

He coughed awkwardly and looked over his shoulder at the Vulcan, who was indeed staring intently at him, his cheekbones high and brow slightly raised. His sleek black hair was molded into a perfect helmet without a hair out of line. The only thing that separated him from the other Vulcans that Jim had seen up close were his big brown eyes, which were fixed on him.

“Uh, come here often?” Jim attempted to lighten the mood by joking, but immediately regretted it.

The Vulcan looked taken aback, “It is my first time in this establishment. Being the bartender of such a location, one would think that you would recall seeing an individual of my heritage and appearance.”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” he began filling the cup with water, “it’s been a long day.”

“This day is exactly the same length of time as the previous.” the man cocked his head to the side, and damn if Jim didn’t find that both infuriating and endearing.

The glass that Jim was filling almost overflowed, and he jumped to make sure it didn’t spill all over the place. His cheeks burned. He hadn’t made a mistake like that since he first started bartending, not even when he first met Uhura.

He slid the pint glass across the bar to the Vulcan, who only looked down at it. Jim waited, but the alien didn’t say anything or look up at him.

“Is that, uh,” he dried the spot where the glass had dripped water, “is that it?”

The man in front of him looked up and stared into his eyes. “I require… a lemon.”

Jim blinked, “Oh, lemon. Yeah, I can do that.” he snagged a wedge from his bin under the counter and squeezed its juice into the glass, plopping the mushed citrus into the top of the water. He mixed it with the straw and peered up at the Vulcan, who was watching everything he was doing like it was the most interesting thing on this side of the galaxy.

He retreated and leaned against the back counter, waiting for the alien to say or do anything. It took about two minutes before he finally reached forward and picked up the glass, sipping cautiously.

“What brings a Vulcan into a gay bar, then?” Jim blurted, becoming more confident around the intimidating man.

He could tell that the man almost choked on his water, and he withdrew from drinking. Jim swore he could see fear in his eyes, which was  _ illogical _ because Vulcans didn’t have those sorts of emotions. The man looked up at him.

“I was unaware that this was a… homosexual establishment.”

“Well, everybody’s welcome,” Jim flashed a smile, “as long as you’re not an asshole about it.”

The alien wordlessly downed the rest of his ice water and without looking at a watch or clock, informed Jim that he had to get to a class.

“O-kay…” the human fetched the empty glass from in front of him, “well, it was nice talking to you…?”

He watched as the Vulcan nodded slightly, but made absolutely no move to leave.

Jim realized that this guy probably wasn’t going to take the hint, and that he would have to be as blunt as possible with him. He hadn’t even realized that the  _ Enterprise _ was a gay bar, even though a rainbow Starfleet Academy flag and countless clippings from the archived newspapers about gay members of Starfleet were covering the brick walls.

“What’s your name?” he asked, trying to be nonchalant about it.

“Spock,” he replied almost instantly, “I am S'chn T'gai Spock, but you may call me Spock.”

Kirk beamed, his cheeks lighting up with a less aggressive blush, “Nice to meet you, Spock. I’m Jim.”

Spock raised an eyebrow and looked towards the door. “I must be going.”

Jim was frozen, staring after him as he made for the stairs, before he finally bid the Vulcan goodbye. Immediately after the haze of meeting a very cute guy cleared, he cursed Uhura’s name. She was behind this, and now he needed to know why.


	2. Run the World (Girls)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Girls' Night at the Enterprise! Jim does recon about the mysterious Mr. Spock. Bones insists that he doesn't gossip, and then proceeds to gossip like a school girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god, i'm sorry for the very late update! life gets in the way, as does writers' block... i promise that more updates will follow and they will not take me months to write.

Fridays were always busy, mostly due to the fact that  _ the Enterprise _ carried alcohol and the music was better than any of the other dingy bars around campus. In general the bar was accepting, as long as nobody was an asshole to the nervous cadets with their significant others. It wasn’t as if Jim checked everyone’s gay card as they entered.

Jim could count on Uhura being there, as it was her favourite night of the month. While there wasn’t really that big of a separation, it was ladies’ night at the bar, meaning that she could add to her mental list of queer girls in her linguistics classes. All girls (and femme nonbinary folks) got half off drinks, which attracted quite a crowd in the basement-turned-bar. 

It was starting to wind up, and Jim was thankful to see his friend Leonard McCoy sitting at the other end of the bar, stretching to grab the whiskey that was just out of arm’s reach. Jim sidled up to him and snatched the bottle, pouring a drink.

“What did I tell you about reaching across the bar? It’s very rude, you know,” he scolded, but there was no anger in his voice. During his first couple of weeks, before Jim had caught on to the fact that he was almost single-handedly going to be running a bar, the only one who could match his bitterness was Leonard. Jim had met him for the first time at one in the afternoon, where the man was pouring himself scotches while muttering about a divorce. The habit had stuck with him, even after Jim had learned how to manage.

“Yeah, well,” the older man took a swig of his drink, “girls’ night always is a busy one.”

Jim rested his elbows on the hardwood counter and leaned forward, “yeah, you can say that again. I was trying to talk to Uhura, but it looks like she’s busy.”

McCoy spun on the bar stool and spotted the cadet dancing on an Orion girl, a bright grin on her face. He scoffed and turned back to Jim, “yeah, you’ve got better chances catching a greased pig than talking to that girl tonight.”

“Oh, Lenny,” Jim sighed, mockingly, “full of southern charm.”

Leonard swiped at him and cursed his name for calling him that, but Jim was already halfway to the other side of the bar, welcoming new patrons as they entered. He busied himself with refilling drinks before he returned to his friend.

The blond tried to be as nonchalant as possible as he wiped the bar with a rag, “so, Bones… you see many Vulcans on campus?”

He narrowed his eyes at the bartender, slowly placing his drink back on the coaster. “Why you asking?”

“No reason, really,” Jim shrugged, not meeting Leonard’s eyes, “one of them came into the bar last night and I didn’t know if you knew him.”

“ _ Knew  _ him?” the med student raised his eyebrows, “you’re not - oh good god, Jim, you’re not talking about that fucking  _ Spock _ character, are you?”

Jim startled, his surprise completely evident to his friend. “Oh! Oh, I mean - yeah, maybe. What, is he an asshole?”

“Of the highest degree, Jimmy. Don’t you tell me that that holier-than-thou hobgoblin walked into this gay bar and  _ spoke  _ with you. I don’t even think that the stick up his ass would allow him to get through the door.”

“Well,” he turned to wash glasses in the sink, “he seemed nice enough when he was in here.”

McCoy scoffed again, “yeah, he’s plenty nice. Nice enough to suck up to all the professors and then look down his nose on anyone not as smart as him. He really came in here?”

Jim nodded, pretending to not be as invested in the information as he was, “yup. Didn’t even know it was a gay bar until I told him. Pretty sure he almost waterboarded himself.”

His friend erupted into laughter, slapping his thigh in glee. “Good to know that he’s not as wise as he lets on. This place is as gay as the fourth of July, so that bastard must be thicker than a bowl of oatmeal.”

Kirk turned around and smiled at his friend, “wow, really? Where do you come up with this stuff?”

He waved him off and took another drink, “comes from years of dealing with people at the academy. Think I heard the lunch lady Ethel say that about whatever poor guy got kicked out this week.”

Jim’s smile wavered, and Leonard immediately realized that he had said something wrong. The former shook it off and started cutting lemons, while his friend tried his absolute best to solve what he had just said.

“I mean, not like being kicked out is shameful or anything. Sometimes people have other shit going on. Shit, kid, I didn’t mean-”

“Bones, don’t worry about it,” he put a smile back on and flashed it at the man across the bar as evidence, “I’m fine. Just because they kicked my ass to the curb for getting into fights doesn’t mean that I hold a grudge.”

McCoy leaned forward, “hey, they’d probably give you another chance. We both know you’re good at more than just making drinks. Besides, being George’s kid, you’d-”

Uhura slapped both hands on the bar, smiling at the two. “Hey, Len! Jim, can I get an ice water?”

Jim cleared his throat and started filling a cup with ice, “no problem, hon. Want a lemon? Seems to be popular these day.”

She tilted her head to the side, thinking about what he could have meant, before she realized what he was talking about.

“Oh! Spock came in yesterday, didn’t he?” she was practically bouncing with energy after being on the dancefloor, “How weird was he? He said he played it cool but I don’t think he’s ever been in a bar before.”

Leonard guffawed into his almost empty glass, and Uhura turned to him with deadly speed. “Don’t think that boy’s been anywhere besides up his own ass before, sweetheart.”

“Hey! Spock is nice, just not good with crowds. It’s not his fault he’s…” Uhura frowned as she tried to think of the right words, “shy.”

“So you know him, too?” Jim passed the water across to his friend, “Bones here says he’s a real treat to be around on campus.”

She shrugged and took a hearty gulp before replying, “he was in some of my linguistic classes, and I was  _ not  _ going to work with the mouthbreather next to me. He’s really sweet, really. Tried to date him before I realized that he was as gay as a rainbow.”

Leonard snorted into his glass.

“He was feeling kind of lonely on campus, so I recommended that he come here. Not without bribery, though. Doesn’t get out much.” she took a seat next to Bones to continue drinking.

“Yeah, he’s really… something.” Jim thought of the man’s warm brown eyes and awkward movements, smiling thoughtfully. Sure, he didn’t seem like the most socially healthy person, but he was a Vulcan, after all. At least he was trying.

“Damn, Nyota! Look what you did to the kid! He’s blind with lust.”

Uhura shoved Leonard on his stool, and he wobbled before moving to push back.

“What in god’s name are you lot up to?” a Scottish accent yelled, and the three turned to the ginger man shrugging off his coat and throwing up his arms in triumph, “‘cause the party ain’t alive ‘til Montgomery Scott arrives!”

Jim laughed and moved to grab the engineer his usual, the thought of the pointy-eared man still lingering in the back of his mind. 


	3. Dancing Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Sulu and Chekov’s six-month anniversary, and of course Jim and the crew have to celebrate. Spock hates dancing until Jim forces him to introduces him to the wonders of ABBA.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sweet christ I am sorry for the late update. College, you know?
> 
> weird format in the beginning is supposed to be like messaging... italics is uhura, plain is spock.
> 
> I apologize in advance for Chekov’s horrific Russian accent. I didn’t want to just write him normally but also, I have no clue how to make him not sound like an idiot. :/ Sorry.

Saturday, 2:39PM

_ talked to Jim last night, said he saw you. he seems to like you ;P _

I do not understand the meaning of the semicolon and the capitalized “p”.

_ it’s a winky face sticking its tongue out, obviously _

Obviously.

_ you should totally come out again tonight. we’re throwing a party for our friends’ anniversary and he would totally love to see you there!! _

I am as of yet unsure as to my responsibilities this evening. I may be required to complete educationally supplemental tasks for Professor Munro.

_ really?? holy shit spock if you stay in on a saturday night to study i am going to kick your ass _

I may be needed to grade exams.

_ spock _

Nyota.

_ please just come to the  _ enterprise _ tonight. for me. _

…

I will see what I can do.

_ yay!!!! i’m so excited _

I have made no promises.

_ yea but we both know you’re totally going to come just so jim can flirt with you again _

:P

_ HOLY SHIT SPOCK DID YOU JUST FUCKING SEND ME A HALF-ASSED ATTEMPT AT AN EMOJI???? _

. . . 

Sulu was the first regular in the  _ Enterprise _ that night, but Jim wasn’t too surprised. In the years that he had known the aspiring helmsman, he had come to realize that the man was a complete sucker for romance. While the fencing usually deterred people from thinking that he was a softy, Hikaru had confessed that he was an avid botanist, and had even given Jim a couple of flowers for his dingy apartment. According to him, “not even Jim Kirk could kill these”, and so far, he was correct. Later in their friendship, Jim listened attentively while he rambled about a curly-headed kid in one of his higher-level classes. Jim would pour drinks while Sulu gushed over the impossibly brilliant boy, whose name was eventually revealed to be Pavel Chekov.

Jim helped Sulu get his head out of his ass and ask the Russian out on a date, which apparently went well, since they had been dating for exactly six months. He definitely wasn’t going to openly admit it, but Jim had a sense of pride over the couple. He even let young Chekov spend time in the bar, which, due to him being a mere seventeen, wasn’t technically allowed.

Hikaru looked around the bar, which was starting to fill with patrons.

Kirk stopped the busywork he was doing and approached his friend. “He’s not here yet, don’t worry.”

The man looked at him quickly, startled, and Jim could tell that he was looking for his significant other. Sulu blushed.

“I guess I’m just nervous.”

The bartender quirked his hip to the side, “nervous? You two are the best couple in San Francisco, what do you have to be nervous about?”

Sulu beamed at Kirk, “Thanks Jim. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”

Jim sighed dramatically, “you would have died alone, probably.”

The student leaned over the bar to swipe at him, but Jim dodged easily. He began preparing glasses for the night, and finished pouring a beer for a patron when Leonard McCoy burst through the door.

“Don’t ask,” he replied before Jim could even take a breath in to speak, “they’re right behind me.”

Sure enough, Uhura fired into the bar, her long ponytail almost slapping Scotty in the face, who was close behind. McCoy had already settled himself in with a cup of hard liquor when a giddy Nyota all but skipped to the counter.

Chekov was the last of the group to arrive, looking as bashful as ever. He all but ran into Sulu’s arms, which made Leonard roll his eyes and down the rest of his drink. The group cheered and wished the two a happy anniversary. Jim beamed, not-so-secretly delighted for his two friends along with anything that made McCoy grumpy. He started grabbing ingredients for Chekov’s drink.

“Friends!” the Russian exclaimed, “zis is so kind! Thenk you all for the werry lowely velcome!”

Jim stirred the drink and went for the garnish. There was no way in hell that Jim would give alcohol to a minor (he may be stupid, but not  _ that _ stupid), but it wasn’t as if Pavel had ever asked for anything stronger than a Sprite. Usually Kirk would give sodas to non-drinkers for free anyway, especially if they were the designated driver, but in this case, he just liked the guy. He went to plop a single maraschino cherry onto the ice at the top of the glass, but reconsidered in favor of adding six.

Smiling, he put the mixed drink on a coaster and slid it over to his young friend. “Here you go, lovebird. On the house. Happy anniversary.”

Chekov’s eyes lit up. It was as if he had just received the most thoughtful present on earth. “A Shirley Temple, my faworite! Thenk you, thenk you,  _ thenk you _ !”

“Don’t forget the extra cherries,” Jim beamed in return, “one for every month.”

As Hikaru gave Jim an approving look, his boyfriend started sipping from the pint glass with a fancy straw. Nyota guffawed, something Jim would have expected from Leonard, who was sitting to the happy couple’s right with his head in his hands.

She cocked her hip to the side, “and you say you aren’t a romantic, Jim. That’s mushier than mess hall porridge.”

“Aye!” Scotty pointed at her with his free hand, “don’t ye be bringing those wretched excuses for sustenance into this establishment! This is a safe space, ye hear?”

The group laughed and Jim went to work refilling drinks for various bar patrons, humming along with the tune of the music. Out of the corner of his eye he could spot Hikaru and Pavel standing close and sharing giggles. He rolled his eyes, but the smile lingered on his face.

“Excuse me.”

Jim’s smile wavered for a second, because he knew that voice. It was so calculated and crisp and as straight and flat as the haircut which followed it. He didn’t miss a beat in grabbing another pint glass.

“Let me guess,” he chuckled, “ice water with lemon?”

He placed the poured drink in front of the Vulcan, who looked just as sour as usual. Like before, he was wearing his school uniform, while most of the patrons were in casual clothes for the weekend.

Spock thanked him for the drink and took a small sip, but Jim was insistent on getting information out of him.

“You just come from a class or something?”

The Vulcan looked at Jim from under his eyelashes. Jim’s heart slammed in his chest, but the man in front of him seemed to not have a similar reaction. Instead, he cocked his eyebrow silently.

Jim cleared his throat, “it’s just that, uh, you’re wearing your uniform is all. Do you have a weekend lecture or something?”

“Is this attire not up to standard for this establishment?”

“No, no, it’s fine, it’s just that everybody else is wearing casuals. You kinda look like a narc.”

“‘A narc’?”, Spock repeated, setting his half-full water on a coaster. 

Jim turned to make someone else a drink, but gravitated back to Spock when he was finished.

Spock continued, “do you mean to imply that I will alert the authorities of the presence of an underage student in the bar?”

The bartender looked directly at the Vulcan in front of him. His brown eyes were still there, but weren’t as soft as they were last time they had talked. Jim clenched his fists at his sides.

“I am aware that Mr. Chekov is under the age of eighteen, which is the age at which he would be legally admitted to this establishment.”

“Yeah, and if you tell anyone,” Jim said through gritted teeth, “I will kick your ass.”

It was the second time he had seen the alien surprised. He took a small step back from the bar, looking at Jim in barely contained wonder.

Jim huffed and pretended to be busy wiping down a section of the bar which was already clean. “More importantly, Uhura would kick your ass.”

“I had no intention to.” Spock replied quietly over the music.

There was silence between them. Music continued in the background, let by a student DJ who was apparently a friend of Scotty’s from engineering class. Jim looked back up at Spock, who he realized had been staring at him. He had known since first meeting the race that Vulcans didn’t show emotion, but this one was looking at him with what Jim could only describe as fondness. Spock noticed he was looking and turned a light green.

“Are you blushing?” Kirk asked cockily, grinning brightly.

“No,” was the immediate reply, “this establishment is simply warm.”

_ Bullshit _ , Jim thought, continuing to smile. He knew that the Vulcan homeworld was hotter than San Francisco, and that bastard was blushing. Jim could have sworn he saw the edge of Spock’s mouth turn up, but as he opened his mouth to call him out on that, too, he was interrupted by an excited Pavel.

“Jim! Zey are going to play my song! You must dance vis us!” Chekov bounced in front of him.

There was no way that Jim could say no to that face, so he called for McCoy to cover for him and snuck out from behind the bar. 

Jim stood next to Spock for the first time without the bar coming between them and immediately realized the height difference. The Vulcan was a solid two inches taller than him, but the insanely perfect posture made it seem like a larger difference. Spock looked down at the human for another few moments before Jim clapped him on the back.

“You like dancing, Spock?”

He readjusted himself in a manner that made him look even stiffer. “I do not dance.”

The beginning of the song started playing, and Jim’s friends cried out in glee as Sulu began to dance around the bar with Chekov. 

“Well that’s just not gonna work,” Kirk said plainly, “you have to dance.”

“On whose authority?”

“Mine. It’s a bar. It’s ABBA.”

“It makes no difference to me where I am and what is playing.”

“I’ll kick you out if you don’t.”

“Well in that case, I will depart.”

“No, Spock - seriously, just try it? Please?” Jim extended a hand to the Vulcan.

Spock debated the invitation before looking at Jim. His pleading expression must have been the thing which tipped the scales, because the man’s shoulders dropped slightly and he headed towards the dance floor with an excited Jim trailing behind him.

The song that was playing was dubbed Chekov’s song was very disco, and while the lyrics could only relate to him for a few more months, everyone agreed it was perfectly his. Jim placed himself within the group of dancers and began moving to the beat. Spock stood uncomfortably next to him, looking to the other patrons for some sort of comfort.

“You have to loosen up,” Jim declared.

“I am… loose.”

Jim laughed and continued to dance, grinning wickedly at Nyota’s shocked face as she spotted who his dancing partner was. The Vulcan looked completely out of place on the dance floor, as people swung their partners and laughed. Soon Jim noticed that the man was lightly swaying to the rhythm, and it occurred to him that that was as good it was going to get with Spock.

“Hey, you’re doing it!” he exclaimed, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking. 

The corner of Spock’s mouth twitched again, and Jim released him. ABBA blasted through the bar, Sulu and Chekov were dancing close with each other, and Jim grinned at the beautiful man in front of him. It was as good as it was going to get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chekov is the dancing queen and anybody who thinks otherwise can catch these hands


End file.
